


it's in my veins, it's in my blood

by wetbookshelf



Category: American Vandal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Peter is oblivious, except they don't really know it, he's also jealous
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wetbookshelf/pseuds/wetbookshelf
Summary: Peter was really, really grateful for Chloe Lyman.But that didn't mean she hadn't been getting on his nerves.--Or, Peter doesn't really like Chloe Lyman. He certainly doesn't like the way she acts around Sam. He doesn't know why.





	1. the accusation

**Author's Note:**

> So first of all, I haven't written anything that wasn't an essay for school in.. a long time. So bear with me here. Anyway, I hope my characterization is okay. Tell me how I'm doing! Constructive criticism is great and motivates me to keep going :)
> 
> title is from Jealousy by Frankie Miller. yeah i just looked up song quotes about jealousy. what are u gonna do about it

Peter was really, _really_ grateful for Chloe Lyman.

And not just for the obvious reason— her letting them stay in her house— but for the fact that she was the one who led them to this story in the first place. Though it was just as absurd as the Great Dick Drawing Fiasco of 2016, as Sam jokingly referred to it once, something about it just felt more r _eal_. The Turd Burglar had affected more than just a few Hanover High teachers and a stoner burnout. It affected an entire school, students and faculty alike.

And of course, Peter had a little bit of a soft spot for injustice. The story itself had interested him, sure, and it definitely fit the mood he had created in the first season of American Vandal, but hearing Chloe Lyman’s plea to exonerate her friend is what led Peter into looking into it. He was fascinated with freeing the wrongly accused, and after what he did for Dylan, he was itching to do it again.

Chloe Lyman gave him a chance to do that, and on top of that, she gave him and Sam a cushy place to stay while they investigated. So, yeah, he was grateful for her.

But that didn’t mean she hadn’t been getting on his nerves.

“Jesus, Peter,” Sam said, rather incredulously, when Peter shared this with him. “She’s been nothing but nice to you. She’s the whole reason we’re here! Give me one good reason why she could possibly annoy you.”

Peter felt his cheeks heat up a little bit and he looked down at his lap. Aside from Vandal theories, him and Sam usually just kind of… _agreed_ on stuff. He had expected a bit of agreement here. “Can I just remind you I used to listen to you rant about Brandon Galloway all the time even though I thought your criticisms were totally unfounded?”

Sam’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “That’s totally different! I had plenty of reasons to not like Brandon. He was a total dick. You’re just shit-talking a perfectly nice girl who hasn’t done anything to you.”

For some reason, hearing Sam refer to Chloe as “a perfectly nice girl” annoyed him even more. Deep down, he knew he was being kind of irrational. She was nice. And she’d done a lot for them. But… still. There was something about her that just kind of… rubbed him the wrong way.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I don’t know. She just…” Peter paused. Trying to explain why he didn’t like Chloe was sort of difficult. “It’s just a feeling I have. She just seems like she’s kind of, I don’t know, putting up a front.”

Sam scoffed. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know! She just seems kind of fake. And she’s just kind of… I mean, she clearly liked Kevin, but then she hooked up with his best friend, and now she’s always hanging off of you when we’re in her house working on theories—“

“Oh my _God_.” Sam turned away from him, shaking his head in disapproval, clearly done with Peter’s shit. “Are you slut shaming her? Is this slut shaming that you’re doing here? Gabi would be so disappointed.”

Peter’s eyes widened and his mouth gaped. He figured he probably looked a little bit like a fish right now. “I’m not— I wouldn’t— I’m not trying to _slut shame_ her or anything. I’m just saying… it’s a little—“

“You totally are,” Sam said, cutting him off. He seemed pretty ticked off now, and Peter kind of regretted even bringing it up. The satisfaction of getting to say that Chloe annoyed him didn’t really seem worth it now. “First of all, she does not hang off of me. It’s so stupid that you would even say that. She just wants to be involved in the investigation! And second of all—“

“Okay, okay, I rescind my statement—“

“ _Second of all_ , what does it matter if she liked Kevin then hooked up with his friend? It’s not like it’s your business. You’re being ridiculous.”

It’s not like Peter would ever admit it, because _good fucking luck_ getting Peter to admit to any sort of weakness, but he always got a little hurt when Sam said anything negative about him. He never really cared what people thought of him, but he really, really cared what Sam thought about him— he guessed it was because they had been friends for so long, and Peter thought so highly of him. Peter thought Sam was smart, funny, talented, unique— the list goes on and on— and he just wanted Sam to think of him the same way. So hearing him say he was being “ridiculous”, even though it wasn’t really that big of a deal… Yeah. It kind of hurt.

“Look, I’m just saying we have to look into anybody, and any sort of incredibility or possible motive should be investigated!” He figured it was sort of obvious that he was just trying to save his own skin now, but he really just wanted this to be over.

“God, Peter. ‘Possible motive?’” Sam repeated. Distantly, Peter noted how silly Sam looked when he was angry, with his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. He wouldn’t call him _cute_ or anything, but he was a smaller guy, and he looked kind of funny when he was mad. It was a lot funnier when the anger wasn’t directed at him, though. “Are you saying she did it now?”

“I don’t know! I mean, we never expected Christa Carlyle to have drawn the dicks! We can’t just write someone off because you like them or whatever—“

Seeing Sam’s face clued him in that he had definitely said the wrong thing. Peter looked down at his lap again, fiddling with his hands, too nervous to meet Sam’s eyes. “ _Because I like them?_ Because I like them? You seriously think I like Chloe?” Sam paused, and when Peter (still anxiously avoiding eye contact) didn’t respond, he continued. “I really can’t fucking believe you right now. For such a smart guy, you really don’t know shit.” Sam stood, grabbing his bag, and he started to angrily shuffle out of the room. Before he reached the threshold, he stopped, turning to face Peter. He finally looked up from his lap and met Sam’s eyes. “We both know you don’t think Chloe did it. You’re just trying to rationalize your totally unfounded dislike of her. So just stop.” He took a breath, seemingly thinking of his next words. “I’m going upstairs. Just— leave me alone for a bit. I’m mad at you.”

Sam left, and Peter sat in Chloe’s living room, alone. He had really messed up. It seemed like he was always messing up, when it came to Sam. Most of the time, it felt like Sam was the only person on his side, and when they fought… well, it felt like he had no one.

_For such a smart guy, you really don’t know shit._

That one hit him hard. He knew he’d be dwelling on those words for awhile. But, as hurt as he felt, he realized he sort of found comfort in hearing Sam say he didn’t like Chloe. It made him feel a little… relieved.

He swore he didn’t know why.


	2. the apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more! i have a plan for the ending but i'm not 100% sure how i want to get there. it probably won't be more than four or five chapters, so hopefully it'll all be wrapped up pretty soon. tell me how you guys like this one :) thank you all for your nice comments on the last one by the way!
> 
> also: chloe will be in the next chapter. so you get to see peter's jealousy in action hehe

“Peter, can you just stop ranting for two seconds? I can’t even understand you. Just explain what happened.”

After the argument, his first instinct was to get some outsider advice on the situation. That’s what he did whenever he was unsure of what to do. So, naturally, he thought of Gabi. She knew Sam, and she knew Peter, and she was arguably better at the whole “dealing with people” thing than Peter was. So, he called her, and he tried his best to calmly explain what happened to her in a way that he hoped wouldn’t elicit the what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you-Peter response he was kind of expecting.

Even though Peter always felt like Gabi wasn’t really _his_ friend, more of a friend of Sam’s that he also happened to hang out with, but he wasn’t really sure who else to talk to this about. Normally, if he had a problem, he would just go to Sam. But for one, most of his problems were usually regarding school or Vandal, not really personal issues, and Sam wasn’t exactly speaking to him at this moment.

Yeah. There’s that.

Despite currently staying in the room right next to him, Sam sure was doing a good job of avoiding him. It had only been around a day, but those 24 hours had mostly consisted of Peter worrying and trying his best to roughly edit Vandal— but it was a little difficult without Sam by his side, giving him commentary. He almost felt bad doing anything Vandal related without Sam’s input. It had started as just his project, way back when he decided to uncover the truth about the dicks painted at Hanover High, but it definitely wasn’t just his now. He couldn’t have made it without Sam, and now, editing without his input, doing interviews without his input, even just looking critically at the theory board without his input just felt… wrong.

So it had been a bit of an unproductive day. He knew he needed to fix this, but he wasn’t really sure where to even start. Should he apologize? Logically, he knew that was the best way to fix this. But he wasn’t really sorry for what he said. Okay, maybe he was sorry for suggesting that Sam liked Chloe, but, in Peter’s defense, he totally did. Peter wasn’t stupid. He could tell that Sam had liked Gabi, and he could tell that he liked Chloe. So should he be sorry for that?

“Yes you should be sorry! What the fuck, Peter?” Gabi exclaimed, the disbelief evident in her voice. Obviously he couldn’t see her, over the phone and all, but he could imagine her face— eyebrows raised, mouth agape. The classic face she made whenever Peter did something inconsiderate. Which was a bit more often than he would like. “Look, Peter. I know you won’t believe me, but I believe, _one hundred percent_ , that Sam does not and never did like me. And I don’t know this Chloe girl or how Sam acts around her, but if you’re basing your assumptions on how he acted around me, then I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like her either.” Peter was quiet for a moment, unsure of what to say next. “Do you believe me or what?”

“I believe that you believe it,” he finally said, unconvinced. Of course _Gabi_ would say Sam didn’t like her. She didn’t want him to. But Peter knew his best friend.

Gabi paused, then let out a loud sigh. “Peter, are you going to listen to what I have to say or not?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll listen.”

“I really don’t think Sam likes that girl. And even if he does—“ At that, Peter frowned. He really didn’t want Sam to like Chloe. “—he cares about the investigation just as much as you do. I don’t think he would overlook somebody or compromise the project over a crush.”

Peter bit his lip, considering her words. She was right, Sam had been extremely passionate about American Vandal since day one, and he wasn’t exactly one to let his feelings take control of him. So maybe he wasn’t exactly in the right. But he also didn’t exactly like admitting he was wrong.

“You’re right, I guess. Maybe I should apologize. I just…” Peter hesitated. “I hate fighting with him,” he admitted, fidgeting with a pencil on his desk. It felt out of character for him to admit something so personal, even to a friend. It wasn’t exactly super revealing or anything, but he never really talked about inner personal conflict. To anyone. He found it kind of embarrassing, really. He wasn’t of the mindset that anyone was interested in hearing his personal problems.

“I know, Peter,” Gabi said, her voice soft, almost like she was consoling a child. That was one thing Peter liked about Gabi. She had a mature, almost mother-figure-like demeanor, which Peter respected. She seemed like she always knew the right thing to do. Peter almost envied her for that. “But all— uh, all _friends_ fight. That just kind of happens when you spend a lot of time with someone. But you learn from it, and grow, and I promise you Peter, your friendship will be stronger for it. Just apologize, okay? And try your best to mean it, please.”

Peter chuckled a bit at that. Maybe she knew him better than he thought. “Okay, yeah. I’ll apologize to him when I can actually get in the same room as him. Um, thanks, by the way, Gabi. I appreciate it.”

Peter could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Of course, Peter. Listen, I really need to get started on some homework, Physics takes me _hours_ , but call me again soon, okay? I really want to hear some more about the case. And tell Sam I said hi!” She paused for a moment. “Um, you know, when you’re speaking again. Which better be soon!”

“Yeah, I will. Bye, Gabi. Also, if you need help with Physics, you have my number.”

Gabi laughed at that. “I’ll probably take you up on that, honestly. Bye, Peter!” The line went dead, and Peter pressed the phone against his chin as he stared blankly at his keyboard, considering their conversation.

Leaning back in his seat, he glanced over at the computer chair that was pulled up next to his. Sam’s oversized jacket was still hanging off the back. He felt a pang in his chest just looking at it.

God, he really needed to talk to Sam.

————

The next morning, Peter had a plan: He was going to camp out in the kitchen for awhile, under the guise of working on Vandal— okay, he was working on Vandal, but he wasn’t just going to sit in the kitchen for three hours doing nothing, that would be weird— and wait for Sam to come get something to eat. It was 11 now, so he figured Sam would have to come down for some lunch eventually. And anyway, they needed to fix this, because they were supposed to go down to the school at 2:15 to interview a couple of teachers, and Peter really wanted to be on speaking terms with Sam for that.

He’d been sitting in the kitchen for about thirty minutes when Sam finally came down. Peter, who had admittedly gotten wrapped up in his editing and planning and almost forgotten why he was really down here, noticed him and quickly perked up, practically jumping out of his seat. “Sam!”

Sam looked a little blindsided by Peter’s presence. “God, Peter, warn a guy,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact. He walked over to the (might I say, _enormous_ ) fridge and pulled it open, staring at the contents and clearly trying to pretend Peter wasn’t there.

Peter shuffled over to the kitchen counter. He awkwardly hovered there for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. He had gone over the situation in his head what felt like a thousand times, but it was incredibly more difficult when Sam was actually in the room.

Sam glanced at him over his shoulder, and Peter’s gaze quickly fell down to the counter. Sam turned back to the fridge and sighed, reaching in and grabbing a Coke. “Whatever you have to say, just say it, man.”

Peter took a deep breath. “I’mreallysorrySam,” he rushed out, almost unintelligibly.

Sam moved to face him now, holding the Coke in his hand. He furrowed his brows, staring at him, unimpressed. “What did you just say?”

“I, um— I’m sorry. For what I said, and just for… all of that. It was pretty uncalled for me to insinuate that you liked Chloe, and, uh… I was just being pretty dumb, overall, so could we maybe, I don’t know, forget about it?” He asked, almost pleading.

Sam almost looked shocked at his words, which Peter kind of expected. Peter didn’t really apologize that often. He much preferred the tried and true method of ignoring a problem until everyone involved forgot about it. “Uh…” Sam said, a confused look on his face. “Sure, Peter. I didn’t really expect you to apologize, honestly.”

Peter broke their eye contact and looked down at the granite, suddenly interested in the patterns of the marble. “I know. I should work on that, I guess.” Suddenly gaining a second wind, Peter looked back up into Sam’s brown eyes. “But I mean it. I was just…” _Jealous. Upset. Wanting your attention._ He blinked, trying to clear away his messy thoughts. “I was being irrational. I don’t know why I do that.”

Sam shook his head, a grin creeping up on his face. He moved closer to Peter, setting the drink down on the counter. “It’s okay, man. Trust me, I know you pretty well, so I guess it wasn’t a very surprising thing for you to do. I was just pretty pissed in the moment, you know?” Peter nodded. “But I’m proud of you for apologizing, man. I really didn’t expect that. I actually planned to be mad at you for another, oh,” he glanced down at his watch, “three hours.” A big smile broke out on his face, and at that, Peter couldn’t help but smile too.

“I’m glad that’s over. It wasn’t fun at all.”

Sam chuckled, moving even closer. Peter felt his heart beat a little faster. “We both know you’d crash and burn without me.”

“Yeah. Don’t know what I’d do without you around,” Peter joked back, half heartedly. But he was kind of telling the truth. Sam was like.. his partner in crime. His right hand man. All those cliches. He wasn’t really Peter without Sam.

Sam was almost uncomfortably close to him now, and he stared at Peter for a moment, biting his lip. “C’mon. We’re going to hug now, like men.” And then he wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck, and he felt strangely nervous. His heart was still beating really fast, and his stomach felt like it was flip flopping around in his abdomen, and…

Instead of overanalyzing it, he just put his arms around Sam’s waist and pulled him closer. Maybe a bit too close for a “bro hug,” but Sam didn’t seem to be complaining. He just burrowed his face in Peter’s neck, and Peter shut his eyes, letting the feeling— whatever it was— wash over him.


	3. the invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we're going to need to suspend a little disbelief here. I use some dialogue from the show here, but I want to note that this is going to differ considerably from the show in a few aspects. Like I really don't understand when exactly the show takes place, so I placed it in the middle of December. And there was no dance in the show but there is here. Sue me. Artistic license, am I right guys?  
> Anyway, I kind of have this planned out in my head, and this should only be five chapters. So, two more. Hopefully it'll be done by the end of this week or the beginning of next week.  
> Enjoy and, as always, tell me what you think! :)

  
Staring at the theory board had begun to get a little frustrating.

“I just feel like there are some holes in Tanner’s story,” Peter said, hand perched thoughtfully on his chin. “I’m just having trouble understanding the timeline.”

“There are _definitely_ holes in his story. I mean, why would he go to the police and tell them he saw Kevin with _laxatives?_ “ Sam said, looking questioningly at his creation. Peter had mostly started the theory board last time, with the dicks, but this time he gave Sam complete control— which is something he does very rarely, considering he’s what some may call a “control freak.” Not that he would ever use that term to describe himself.

But Sam was good at it, and it showed. Also, Peter kind of liked to see how excited his friend got when he could move the strings or add a new suspect or whatever. It was nice knowing how passionate Sam was about the project.

“And not just the laxatives, but everything Tanner brought to the police. I mean, the horchata, the trip to Dawsey’s, the fact that he’d been acting weird… He had all this information right after the Brownout.”

It was moments like these that Peter loved the most. Theorizing with Sam, watching him connect the dots, allowing themselves to get so wrapped up in the story… He could let himself forget all of his stupid, personal shit. Like his annoyance toward Chloe. Or how he realized he kind of felt the same way towards Gabi, back when he made that video about her and Sam. Or just his weird, unnameable feeling toward Sam that had been making itself known more and more.

Like now. Looking at Sam, standing there, talking about Kevin and Tanner and the Brownout in his too-big baseball hat and his flannel, he noted the feeling bubbling up deep inside his stomach. It was like now that he realized he even had the feeling at all, he felt it all the time. When Sam made a stupid joke, when he laughed, when he wore those oversized clothes he liked to wear, when he made eye contact with Peter, when he hugged him the other day… he felt it so often it was almost permanent.

It was confusing. And part of him just wanted to figure it out. He wanted to look closer at it, inspect it like it was the subject of one of his docs. Figure out where it came from and why it’s there.

But part of him, the part that screamed the loudest, the part that was always there to steer him in the right direction— that part convinced him that he just didn’t want to know.

————

“Hey, guys, I’m gonna run to Chick Fil A for some food before we keep working, you guys want anything?” Randall, their trusty cameraman, asked. Peter flicked his eyes up from his laptop and shook his head before returning to the video he was watching.

“I’m good,” Sam said, plopping down on the couch next to Peter. “Thanks, though.”

Randall gave the boys a thumbs up before heading out. Next to him, Sam leaned over to see what Peter was watching. “Are you watching the Dawsey’s security tape again? Dude. You’ve seen it like eight times.”

Peter noticed the suddenly close proximity of him and Sam, and that all-too-familiar feeling became so strong it was almost dizzying. “Um…” He paused for a moment, looking at Sam’s profile, only inches away from him. _Sam really is an attractive guy,_ he thought, suddenly. He wondered why he had never had a girlfriend. Peter had never had a girlfriend, sure, but most girls thought Peter was weird. And Peter wasn’t really interested in dating. He had too much to focus on for that kind of thing.

Sam turned to face him, a confused look spread across his features. Their faces were so close now. Peter could almost hear his own blood pumping. “Are you okay, man?”

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly realizing how just how fucking weird he was being, he scrambled for an explanation. “I just—“

The sound of footsteps rang out in the quiet kitchen. Sam turned to the noise only to find Chloe walking into the kitchen, dressed in a soft, white sweater, with her long blonde hair up in a ponytail. Sam quickly moved away from him, and Peter got this weird feeling that he’d been… _caught._ He shook it off and quickly pretended like he had been focused on the video the whole time. He'd paused it already, but nobody seemed to notice except him.

“Hey guys,” she said, grabbing a water from the fridge. “How’s the investigation going?” She shut the fridge door and crossed the room, sitting down across from them in a big, blue armchair.

Sam smiled at her, now sitting all the way on the other side of the couch. Peter wished he was still next to him. He wished he didn’t want him to be next to him. It was all very strange. “It’s going pretty good. Kinda frustrating, though.”

“What are you guys doing now?” The two continued conversing about the investigation, Peter’s additions notedly missing. Sam kept glancing over at him, looking noticeably irritated by his sudden reclusiveness, but thankfully he didn’t try and force him to talk.

He was _trying_ to like Chloe. He was. But it was hard when Sam was there, smiling and laughing and joking with her. Sure, yeah, he was a little possessive over his friend. He could admit that. But he didn’t have a lot of friends. He had Gabi and Dylan and the people who worked with him on Vandal, yeah, but he didn’t have anyone else like Sam. Sam, who had been next to him pretty much all his life, who knew everything about him, who could tell when he was upset (which was hard, since he kind of had the same expression no matter what), who never got tired of him, even when he was being an idiot.

And Chloe was just so great. Yeah, actually, now that he thought about it, maybe _that’s_ what he didn't like about her. Nobody could be that perfect. She's always so put together, and she’s smart, and she’s always sweet and caring, and her and Sam had so many things to talk about that Peter didn't know anything about. Like the weird music Sam likes that Peter always made fun of him for. Or the kitschy teen dramas Sam watches that Peter thinks are a crime against humanity, which he has told him many times, thanks. He still watches them, though, because Sam likes them, and that’s what a good friend does. But Chloe actually likes that stuff, and the other night over dinner Peter had to sit there and listen to them gush over Riverdale or whatever.

He can see why Sam likes her. He could never compete with her.

_Jesus. Not that I want to. Bad thought._

“So, Peter,” Chloe says, bringing Peter out of the mess in his head. “Do you think Kevin did it?” She almost sounds desperate, pleading. Peter figures Sam must’ve told her that he did, in fact, think Kevin was the culprit. He probably should’ve been listening.

“I don’t think so, to be honest. It doesn’t really add up to me. His confession just seemed off.”

Next to him, Sam rolled his eyes. “You keep coming back to that. The cops kinda berated him, but he still said he did it, and you gotta admit it man, the evidence all points to him.”

Peter set the laptop down on the coffee table and turned to him. “But does it? They painted him to be this outcast who hates the entire school, but that’s clearly not true. He likes being the weird kid. I don’t see why he would dose the entire school with laxatives when he considers most of those people his friends.”

“Just because you can’t see why he would do it doesn’t mean there’s no reason for it. I mean, clearly you don’t know what’s going on like, ninety percent of the time,” Sam said, almost angrily. Peter blinked, taken aback.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Sam’s cheeks flushed, and he turned his gaze to the floor. Peter wondered what he was so embarrassed about. “I just mean that things happen in front of you and you don’t even notice them.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about!”

“Obviously you don’t!”

“Um, guys?” Chloe interjected sheepishly. “Is this still about the investigation?”

“Yes,” the boys barked in unison.

Chloe’s words seemed to snap the both of them out of their argument, and they fell silent. Peter awkwardly grabbed the laptop off the table, opening up a blank Word document, which served no purpose other than to allow him to pretend to be doing something other than think about what just happened.

Chloe bit her lip, eyes darting between the two boys. “So, uh… I actually had something I wanted to ask you guys.”

“Sure, anything,” Sam said, now cheerful, as if their little spat had never happened. _He must really like her._  
  
“The school’s having this winter dance before they let out for winter break,” she said with a smile, Sam and Peter’s weird fight already forgotten. “I was wondering if you guys wanted to go? It’s not super formal, like a homecoming or anything. I think they really just scheduled it to take our minds off of, you know, everything going on.” She shrugged.

“Of course, dude! We’d love to go! Right, Peter?” Sam asked, looking over at him expectantly.

He wasn’t dumb. He could tell what this was. Chloe was indirectly asking Sam to go with her to this dance, but she couldn’t just ask Sam, since the two of them were kind of a package deal.

“I don’t know,” Peter muttered as he stared at the keyboard, fiddling with the J key. He wasn’t really sure if he was down to third wheel, especially not with _Chloe and Sam._ “I kind of have a lot to do with the doc, I don’t know if I’ll—“

“Come on, Peter,” Sam implored. “Please? Hey, you never know, maybe we’ll figure something out important at the dance. Crazy shit always happens at school dances. Think of it as an investigative opportunity.”

Sam stared right in his eyes, a pleading look on his face. And, well. It was hard to say no to that.

“Fine. But if I get behind on my editing, I’m totally blaming you,” he said pointedly to Sam. Sam chuckled, a dopey grin on his face.

“Shut up. We didn’t go to our homecoming this year because of that Netflix party, remember?” Sam reminded him. It was true. They got invited to a bunch of promotion parties for the show during the end of their junior year all through their senior year, since they were trying to get renewed for a season two. They missed a lot of stuff, actually, but Peter always thought it was worth it.

“Yeah, Peter, you’ll have tons of fun, I promise. And St. Bernadine always has crazy after parties for like, _everything_. When was the last time you went to a party? And not a promotional one.”

“Um.” He wasn’t really sure how to say that he’d never been to a party without sounding like a loser.

“I think that’s answer enough. We could go shopping for clothes this weekend!”

He wasn’t really sure why Chloe was going through all this trouble to convince him to go when it was obvious his invite was just a throwaway, but then again, he never really understood girls anyway. Maybe she wanted to set him up with one of her friends or something so her and Sam could really be alone. The thought kind of grossed him out.

But seeing Sam so excited about the idea, seeing him almost beg Peter to come with... Obviously he had to go. He could pretend to be having a good time, for Sam. And if he needed to, he would make himself scarce, let Sam make a move. Whatever made Sam happy.  
  
Even if Chloe Lyman _did_ kind of piss him off.


End file.
